


People Are Gay, Steven

by okaybi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Civil War Team Iron Man, F slur used like 3 times i think, Gay Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker mentioned, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark mentioned, Not Clint Barton Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Platonic Cuddling, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, implied Sam Wilson/James “Bucky” Barnes, not beta read we die like men, not team Cap friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, yes i’m still bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaybi/pseuds/okaybi
Summary: The Rogues show up at the tower while Tony’s away on a business trip. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 2506
Collections: Fics that make my heart go OOF with fluff, IronDad (and his Spiderson), The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, Works worth reading a million times over, Works worth reading again and again





	People Are Gay, Steven

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I’m exhausted and have no idea how I feel about this. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Peter stumbles into the kitchen at a time much too early to be awake. Nightmares kept him up nearly all night and Mr. Stark is on a business trip so he couldn’t go to him for reassurance. Now, he’s exhausted and grumpy and extremely hungry. 

So that’s his excuse for not noticing his senses screaming at him that there were people sitting around the kitchen counter. His kitchen counter. In the building that he lives in with Mr. Stark and Rhodey. 

“Who the hell are you?” Wanda Maximoff demands. Huh. Interesting. 

Peter continues towards the coffee maker, starting a pot and staring at it longingly as it begins to brew. He really needs to get out the ingredients for breakfast, if he doesn’t eat Mr. Stark will not be pleased. Maybe he’ll have some waffles with a side of bacon. But first, coffee. 

Except, he obviously can’t get any peace around here because a large hand encloses his arm in a tight grip and turns him to face the kitchen counter once more. And, in doing so, away from his precious coffee, the only thing that could soothe his soul at this time. This morning kept getting worse. 

“Dude what do you want?” Peter asks, more than a little put out. 

“Son.” He knows that voice, has heard it various times at school from a TV so the teachers wouldn’t actually have to explain anything to them. 

Peter bursts out laughing—what he’s sleep deprived—and says in a drawling, disappointed tone, “So you got a detention.” 

He gets the immense pleasure of watching the good ol captain’s face turn redder than the Iron Man armor. Yet Rogers soldiers on, “We asked you a question, son.”

Instantly, Peter sobers up. “Don’t call me son,” he responds. 

“You’re still ignoring the question,” Barton pipes up. “Who are you?” 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Barton,” Peter says coolly and turns back to the coffee maker to pour some into a mug. 

That really ticks them off. “Like hell it isn’t our business,” Barton continues. 

Maximoff picks up for him, “Yeah, this is our home.” 

Peter really wants to whirl around at that, but he forces himself to face them calmly. He brings the mug to his lips, casually taking a sip—thank baby Jesus he was gonna explode without it—before deigning to speak. “No, it’s not. This is Mr. Stark’s home. You all are simply an ungrateful leech infestation I’d thought he’d gotten rid of.” He raises an eyebrow. “No matter, I’ll deal with it. Though, Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are going to be extremely disappointed to hear they weren’t here for this.” 

“Kid,” Peter lets that one slide for now (he kinda wants to hear where this is going). “You don’t understand what’s going on. Tony only told you his side of the story, and he probably lied to make himself look better.” 

Humming, Peter tilts his head and pretends to think about it. “One, don’t ever refer to me as ‘kid’ or ‘son’ or any other nickname. Two, I can comprehend everything that happened with the Accords better than you did, Captain Illiterate. And three, Mr. Stark, which is what you’ll refer to him as, never once tried to sway me to his side.” 

Rogers takes on this annoyingly confused face, “Then why are you defending him?” 

Peter shrugs, “He’s a good person.” 

Nearly every Rogue laughs, bar Wilson and Barnes. Interesting. He’ll look deeper into that later, for now he goes back to sipping his coffee, seemingly unbothered. Inside he was seething, how dare these asshats show up at his dad’s house and accuse him of being a bad person. More than anything he desperately wants to break Rogers’ jaw right now. He restrains himself by attempting to start breakfast. After all, Mr. Stark would still be mad if he missed a meal, even if the reason was defending his honor. Especially if that was the reason. 

“Well, why do you seem to hate all of us then?” Rogers questions 

Forgoing his mission to find the recipe for waffle batter, Peter looks Rogers right in the eyes. “Siberia,” he deadpans. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter sees Barnes flinch and look down guiltily. Even more surprising, is that Wilson reaches a hand under the table, presumably to give Barnes’ leg a reassuring squeeze. 

In contrast, Rogers’ face doesn’t change. Not even a wince in regards to what he’d done to his former teammate, his so-called family. 

Pathetic, Peter thinks, utterly pathetic. 

Reaching out, Rogers tries to place a hand on Peter’s shoulder and he can’t help but flinch away. Those hands had hurt Mr. Stark, had hurt his dad. Nearly killed him, quite frankly. So forgive him for being uneasy around this man. The audacity he has, to try to touch Peter when he so clearly despises him. 

Rogers doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t care. His hand still comes to rest on Peter’s arm, fingers tightening their hold nearly imperceptibly. “Listen, you don’t understand. Tony attacked us first, he wanted to kill Bucky.” Peter didn’t miss the way the ex-assassin seemed to wince at the name. He’d have to ask about that later. 

Under his breath, Barnes says “Rightly so,” but Peter picks it up with his hearing. 

Peter gives a sharp smile. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. If Mr. Stark wanted you dead, you would definitely not be standing here right now.”

“You honestly think,” Maximoff scoffs, “that Stark could kill two super soldiers?” Then mutters, “stupid child.” 

“Child?” Peter questions, placing his mug on the counter behind him. “Funny, since that’s all the Rogues’ excuse for your crimes, Maximoff.” 

Maximoff splutters for an explanation, finally settling on “How did you hear that?” 

“And to answer your previous question, Mr. Stark definitely could have ended it in that bunker. You do realize there are missiles in that suit, right Rogers? If he actually wanted to kill you or Sergeant Barnes, he had the means necessary. So what’s your new excuse?” 

For a minute, it looks like Rogers is—wisely—going to keep his mouth shut. Until he ruins it by painfully twisting Peter’s arm. Well, it would be painful if Peter was a normal 16-year-old, but since Rogers doesn’t know that he’s not, he figures the intent is what matters here. 

Trying to sound threatening, Rogers lowers his voice, “Listen here, kid. You have no idea what you’re talking about. We got pardon–“ 

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus I’m gay,” Peter cuts him off, the words coming to him easily. His patience is really wearing thin. 

If Rogers wasn’t struggling for words before, he definitely is now. Peter nearly laughs at the look on his face; halfway between wanting to throw up and wanting to complain. Instead, he give an innocent smile, daring Rogers to say something about it. 

He doesn’t disappoint. 

Realizing he’s still holding Peter’s arm, he tears his hand back towards his body. There seems to be an internal debate going on over whether or not he should wipe his hand on his jeans now. Which, honestly, Peter finds both amusing and disgusting. 

Eventually, Rogers simply says, “I can’t believe Tony let’s a faggot like you in here. Assuming he knows you’re here, that is.” 

It didn’t matter how much Peter anticipated it, the harsh words still make him recoil. How did he ever look up to this asshole? 

Then it hits him; how ironic that this is what he thinks of the LGBTQ+ community, considering his best friend that he fought the world for seems to be in some kind of relationship with his other best friend. 

Which is why he’s not that surprised when Barnes looks at Rogers, horrified. Wilson looks downright outraged. 

“Steve,” Barnes says, “is that really what you think of gay people?” 

That confused look dawns on Rogers’ face again. “Of course, Buck. It’s unnatural.” 

“I agree,” Maximoff says, because of course she does. No one is shocked by that at all since she’s so filled of hate. 

Barnes turns to Barton with a hard look in his eyes, “How about you, Clint?” 

Barton stutters at being addressed directly, “Uh well, I mean it’s- it’s against the bible, right?” 

Here Peter interjects, “God, don’t let my boyfriend hear you guys say any of those things. He’s much less forgiving than I am.” 

Good thing he’s in Tennessee.

“Well then, I suppose I’m unnatural and against the bible.” 

Peter was not expecting Barnes to come out just then. At all. Nobody can say his first meeting with the Avengers wasn’t entertaining.

Rogers turns from Peter, staring incredulously at Bucky. “What? No, Buck you’re not. HYDRA screwed with your head.” 

“People are gay, Steven,” Barnes replies, dryly. 

Peter absolutely loses it. He’s doubled over laughing as all the Rogues look at him as if he’s insane. He doesn’t mind much, too busy wiping at his eyes and trying to compose himself. 

Focusing his attention on Barnes and Wilson, who seem to be the only ones with common sense, he asks, “How do you know that?” 

Barnes smirks, “Shuri showed me some vines. Said I need to ‘catch up with the times.’”

His entire face lights up and he’s practically bouncing on his toes. Peter desperately wants to ask about her, but he reminds himself that he’s not necessarily in a warm, safe environment. Even if it is his own home. 

Which is proven to be true a moment later when Captain Asshat says, “So what is a fag like you doing in our home?” 

Peter sighs. “You know Rogers, I’d really appreciate it if you quit being homophobic. If you’re not keen on stopping I’ll have to hit you. Fair warning.” 

“Kid-“ 

“What did I tell you about calling me kid?” 

“You do realize I’m an enhanced person, yeah?” 

Letting out a dark laugh, Peter answers, “Duh. I wasn’t born yesterday, dumbass.” 

“Language.” 

“No offense,” Peter says even though he doesn’t particularly care if he causes offense, “but you’re kinda not in any place to tell me what I can and can’t do.” 

Rogers hands ball into fists, air rushing out in an angry puff. “You probably do everything you’re told, don’t you? Is that how you got your place here? Got on your knees for one of the men in charge?” 

Peter smiles coldly even though all he really wants to do is shout about how wrong he is. 

He continues, “I bet that’s all a faggot like you is good for.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Peter’s fist is connecting with his jaw. It catches everyone off guard when Rogers’ jaw breaks and Peter doesn’t even cradle his hand in pain. Harley would be proud. And worried, probably, but oh well. 

“Do not ever speak to me like that in my house. I can tolerate a lot of things, but homophobia isn’t one of them,” Peter grinds out. 

“Your house?” Barton asks. “No way. Stark hates kids and would never let one live here, much less–“ He cuts himself off yet the words still rang in the air around them. 

Much less a gay one. 

He thinks of Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes curled around each other on the couch, of their pinkies interlocking while they walk, of the way they move together seamlessly in battle. He wonders how none of them ever noticed, seeing as their relationship is written plain as day for anyone who looks. Better yet, he wonders how Mr. Stark survived those years with these cruel people. 

Peter’s smile turns bitter, “I guess you don’t know him as well as you thought then.” 

Rogers moves forward as if to grab Peter again, but at some point during this altercation Barnes and Wilson had moved to bracket Peter. Barnes steps in front of Peter, metal arm resting on Rogers’ shoulder. 

“Punk, I don’t care how long we’ve known each other, back off this kid, right now. I don’t want you anywhere near him, Mr. Stark, Sam, or me.” 

Sadness glints in Rogers’ eyes, “Bucky, what?” 

“You heard me.” 

It’s a this moment that his dad decides to show up. Lovely. Wait, he’d forgotten to eat breakfast. 

I’m in such deep, unending shit, Peter thinks. 

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Stark asks the group, eyes immediately drifting to Peter who’s half-hidden behind Barnes. 

Raising his hand in a halfhearted wave, Peter gives an uneasy smile. “Hey Mr. Stark. We were just having a discussion.” 

Mr. Stark’s eyes narrow, “A discussion?” 

Peter grins, “Oh yeah! We were just talking about how Rogers is a homophobic dick. Care to chime in?” 

Giving his son a knowing glance, he says, “So I guess we didn’t get to the point where we talked about how Miss Maximoff and Mr. Barton are also homophobic dicks?” 

In front of him, Peter hears Barnes try to cover a snort, which only serves to make Peter laugh. 

To everyone’s amazement, it’s Barnes that answers. “We got there, sir. It’s just that Stevie here was being a little more vocal about it.” He directs a pointed glare at Rogers at the end of his statement. 

Which sets Peter off again because the betrayed look on Rogers’ face is absolutely everything. “Buck-“ 

Peter taps Barnes on the soldier to catch his attention. “Do you have a name you’d prefer to be called, Sergeant Barnes?” 

Barnes visibly softens; Peter tends to have that effect on people. “James, please,” he says and extends a hand. 

“Peter,” Peter replies, shaking his hand firmly. 

Mr. Stark claps his hands, “Now that we’ve figured out which of you all is actually relevant, time to go to your floor. Which is 10 floors below here.” 

“But,” Barton interrupts, “Aren’t our rooms on this floor?” 

“You see they were, but then you all went and betrayed me so... 10 floors down,” Mr. Stark answers, “Oh, except Barnes and Wilson. Their rooms are up here.” 

“Why?” Maximoff demands.

Waving a hand in a careless gesture, Mr. Stark claims that it’s needed in order to treat Barnes for the triggers and he assumes Wilson wants to stay with him. 

Peter is in absolute awe of his dad’s ability to lie on the spot to a room full of people looking to hurt him. Mr. Stark is definitely the bravest man he knows. 

Zoning out, Peter let’s Mr. Stark take care of this mess. He’s tired, after all. 

“So shoo,” Mr. Stark is saying when Peter’s brain rejoins the conversation. The Rogues, minus Wilson and Barnes, scurry off to their floor looking exceptionally pissed off. Not that Peter particularly cared. He almost wishes he took a picture to give MJ some inspiration for her people in distress sketches. Next time, he decides.

As soon as the door to the elevator closes, Peter is rushing at his dad and throwing his arms around his neck. He inhales, finding traces of the cologne Mr. Stark always wears as well as coffee. The familiarity is soothing. One of Mr. Stark’s hands reaches up to run through Peter’s curls while the other pulls him closer. 

“Hey kiddo.” 

“I missed you, dad.” 

Peter whines as Mr. Stark pulls back but he only presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead before going back to holding him. “Missed you too, bambino.” 

Neither of them pulls away for several moments, trying to drink in the presence of the other. Both of their nightmares get worse when they’re away from each other, and they’re trying to remind themselves that the other is still here. 

Mr. Stark eventually lets him go in order to address Barnes and Wilson about the rules in the tower, then asked if they had any questions. 

“I’m really grateful for all of this, but I was just wondering why we aren’t at the compound. You know, ‘cause you wouldn’t have to deal with us all the time there?” Wilson asks. 

“As nice as that sounds,” Mr. Stark says, “that’s where the New Avengers are residing. Somehow I don’t think the two groups would get along very well.” 

Peter stifles a laugh at the idea of the two teams meeting. Loki alone would wreak havoc on the Rogues, but with the added power that Carol, Bruce, Valkyrie, Stephen, Hope, and Wade would provide... There’s no way the Rogues would make it out alive. 

Dad turns to him, serious face back on. Uh oh. “Now tell me what happened.” 

“Umm,” Peter stalls, looking for any possible way out of this. “I didn’t sleep well last night, can we please go watch a movie?” he throws out hoping it’s enough to get Mr. Stark to calm down for a little while. It was a mistake for him to turn and look at Peter earlier, because now he’s facing the full force of his son’s puppy dog eyes. 

Sighing, Mr. Stark relents, “Fine, but you’re telling me about it afterwards.” 

“Yes!” Peter exclaims, he’d missed movie nights with his dad all week. 

Already running out of the room, Peter hears Mr. Stark call out “And I get to pick the movie!” 

A few seconds later Mr. Stark’s is laying with him on the couch after telling FRIDAY to play The Lion King. Peter’s head rests over his heart, listening to it beat. Thirty minutes into the movie, Peter’s breathing evens out as his dad’s fingers card through his hair. 

“Love you, dad,” he slurs in his sleepy state. 

The last thing he remembers is a kiss being pressed to his hair and a soft “I love you too, Pete.”


End file.
